Post by Kevrob Post by Dorothy J Heydt Post by Kevrob
It's down to 48 F/9 C, so home-made soup comes to mind.
Ooooh! To think that I shiver when it gets down to 70 F. But
I'm old and my circulation is slowing down.
(I also swelter when it gets up to 80 F)
A 10 degree F range of comfort isn't much! Just cooking the
chicken or ground beef could play hob with that.
Well, I don't cook it. I think I've already explained that we
don't have a *kitchen* in our flat, but rather a laundry room
[whose dryer doesn't work any more] into which we've introduced
some electrical gadgets to turn it into a primitive galley.
Viz., a refrigerator, a toaster oven, a microwave, a water
boiler. And we used to have a hotplate, but it wouldn't really
cook anything. So we bought an induction burner.
And then I got a pacemaker implanted, and while pacemakers are OK
with microwaves nowadays, I can't get within two feet of the
induction burner when it's turned on. So Hal cooks breakfast and
dinner; we invent lunch out of the fridge sometimes via the
Post by Kevrob
I can usually nab pork chops, either on the bone,
or the boneless type, for $1.50 - $2.50/lb, if they
are on sale. One of the shops near me has 80% lean
3 lb minimum. I'll splash out for fresh fish every
now and then: salmon, flounder, cod, tilapia, etc.
I like to stay under $9 a pound. I can get ground
salmon patties for $6 a pound, usually. There's
usually a weekly special. I avoid frying fish in favor of
grilling, broiling, steaming. Some of the markets here
will steam your fish while you wait, no extra charge.
[Then you get stuck in a slow checkout line, and/or
traffic on the way home, and you have to reheat it.]
Cod cakes are a bargain, but they have carbs, no go
THINGS SF GOT WRONG: Extrapolating advancements in processing
foods to the extent that "the family of the future" would
eat mostly pre-prepared, reconstituted foods, or even Jane
Jetson-style pills. Instead we have fresh food as nearly a
fetish for some. A lot of packaged food has unhealthy ingredients,
such as salt and sugar, that I tolerated in my youth, but avoid,
or use sparingly, now. Where's my rejuvenation, dammit! I want
real bacon, again!
I want chocolate again, and every kind of gooey pastry that I
mustn't touch ever.
Now, I generally don't remember dreams, unless they are the recurrent
kind (e.g., I have some cats and the neighbors have some cats and
somebody opened the front door and some of their cats are in HERE
and some of ours are out THERE and I have to sort them). And
when I wake from one of those I say to myself, "Oh, one of
*those*." And then I remember it.
One of *those* is that I'm somewhere--usually a convention--and
somebody has laid out various items of gooey pastry and other
things I mustn't eat, and I'm surreptitiously picking them up,
all the time telling myself, "No, I mustn't eat this, I mustn't,"
and then (dammit) I wake up before I have a chance to eat them.
Dorothy J. Heydt
djheydt at gmail dot com